The Tale of Malfoy Manor
by skinnyrita
Summary: One night, years after the war is ended, three survivors, if they could be called that, sit down together and listen to the tale of a place that bred nightmares in the people they forgot.


**The Tale of Malfoy Manor.**

_A solemn tale told at a sad table._

It could not have been far past four in the afternoon, yet being the month of January, truly the weather was cold and of a bitterness of the like that creeps upon bones and freezes souls as though the spiked hand of Jack Frost himself sought to clutch at one's heart and snatch it out to perish. The dull blue light of dusk was already infecting the chilled rooms with a dampening darkness, filtering over the paled faces sat around the shortened candles, and painting those areas that did not glow orange, a sickly shade of death. The ivy outside was scratching fell on the thin old panes, a tat-tatting let-me-in. The wind was blowing surely to the scale of a raging gale across the sweeping fields and evergreens. Truly, it was not a night one would choose to venture out for the firewood –and so, the fire died low.

"What do you know about the Malfoy manor?"

Remus raised his white-haired head to address the questioner, reading inquisitive faces before dropping his gaze back down to the flickering flame that some thoughtful person had placed nearby his chilled person. It emitted meagre warmth, and hardly as much light to be seen by. "I am surprised that even you would have any sort of curiosity about that place."

Hermione shivered and wrapped her cloak closer about her person. She raised her eyes to her former professor and confidant, but his gaze was resolutely elsewhere. If he had met her eye, he would have had another opportunity to observe the large dark orbs ringed with premature lines and sallow circles. Hermione sniffed and coughed a deep throated, chesty cough of dampness. "All our long days of the war, us children of then would hear in snippets a ton of little legends about the place. Some may be true, and some other may be not. I always sought to ask Dumbledore, but after his death I put all the questions to the back of my head. Professor, do you think that Draco Malfoy was terribly lonely?"

"Yes."

"It was only after they put him in the ground that I remembered that I had wanted to know about the manor. It was a place that the Weasleys tended to talk about in secret, when they thought that no one was listening. One time, when Harry and I were at Grimmauld Place, we heard Moody telling another auror to be careful of the manor, and for a while I was intrigued, but again, I forgot my questions. We put him in the ground only three months later, and I never had my opportunity to question him."

"What circumstances can have made you think that I know anything?"

Hermione sat back into her chair, which groaned. She glanced over to the red-haired woman next to her, fingers trailing over the tabletop, leaving patterns in the dust, sneezing quietly. "Bless you," said Hermione, quietly. The redhead looked up at her, confused. "Ginny?"

Remus laid a kindly hand over Hermione's. She closed it into a ball. "It's alright, Hermione," he said kindly. "Let her alone." She allowed herself one dry sob, then pulled herself together immediately, securing Ginny's cloak more firmly about her shoulders. Remus shifted the candles on the table so that they offered a more even spacing of light. The ivy outside rapped on the windowpanes, making them flich, and he glanced out at the night. In the time they had been talking, the sky had darkened into an inky navy without stars. The half moon was bright and white. He crossed his legs at the ankle.

"Malfoy manor is a sad story, and a strange one. I of course know very little, and a lot of what knowledge I am privy to may be purely hearsay. I was a boy when I was turned, and after that my parents alternated between sheltering my life, and living in horror of me. It was not a strong psychological base. As such, although I grew up with one wizard parent, I was a sheltered and timid thing when I was sent to Hogwarts, and blissfully unaware of some of the old wizarding families, and their complex and in some cases rather matted histories.

'The first of the old pureblooded households which I became close to, was as you may have already guessed, that of the Black family –toujours pur – I shall not confuse two stories by regaling you with that history, but it is important to understand how closely intertwined those two families –the Malfoys and the Blacks –were in fortune, family, and position, not to mention that each could date it's lines back far beyond the fifteenth century. Sirius' cousin Narcissa Black became, as you know, a Malfoy on her marriage to Lucius Malfoy, and to their union of course they bore Draco. It may seem strange to a generation where pureness of blood has come to mean very little, has come to beget even racist connotations, but as true as I am sitting here, the foremost thing I felt as the Malfoy boy was laid into the earth, was that his passing would mark not only his own demise, but that of the entire Malfoy line, and also of the Black line.

'Sirius and his brother Regulus, were frequent visitors to the manor before their lives at Hogwarts began, and all that followed afterwards. In those days, when pureblood families visited each other, they might stay for as much as a year at a time, and though as far as I am aware, Sirius did not spend such a great deal of time there himself, I know that Regulus did, and that he was greatly influenced as a child by his experiences there."

"His experiences?"

"Hermione, do you know where Malfoy manor is?"

"Not exactly. I know it was never made unplottable –Moody always said that the pride of the Malfoys would never allow them to completely disappear, even if the entire Ministry of Magic was beating down their door."

"He was quite right. Malfoy manor is situated on a vast expanse of completely barren and largely uninhabitable moor, somewhere near what Muggles have now named 'Norfolk', I believe."

"I know roughly where that is –many muggle gothic novels are set there."

"You mean, 'Wuthering Heights' I suppose?"

"Yes, but there are lots of them which try to emulate that sort of thing."

"The manor itself is a grim place, in an even grimmer environment. Sirius always described the whole aesthetic as 'grey'. The grounds are very extensive, with quidditch fields and at least two or three hundred odd acres of gardens. It was an old Malfoy tradition to give each new bride a gift of her own garden within the grounds, which would be locked upon their death. Imagine living your childhood in a large, empty expanse of land, with even the gardens full of locked doors and locked up memories. It was rumoured that after Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment, the house elves locked Narcissa's garden and no one ever opened it again. She did not die for another four years. That, I fear, was probably one of the truer tales."

"That's so horrible. Oh, Ginny no, darling, don't do that!" The redhead had roused herself and was tapping back at the ivy knocking the windows outside. They all paused to calm her and get her back into her seat. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"It's quite alright."

"Go on?"

"The manor gardens sort of melted into the moors at the sides. Sirius used to tell us stories about them: when he was a boy, he would escape the confines of the manor and its locked gardens, when he wasn't playing quidditch, by riding ponies on the moor. He used to spend hours out there in the company of the stableboys, rather than that of his cousins, which I imagine did not buy him much favour. The great outdoors was a diversion that the most of them tended to avoid like the plague, particularly those about the manor. It's not secret that the hauntings of the place were a far cry from the tame experiences one may encounter at Hogwarts. I can recall the story of one example:

'When Lucius Malfoy was fourteen, his father, Septus, was riding a horse on the moors. He was trying to break the beast in so that he could race it, which was popular for wizards back then. This part of the account is clear, but then the tale slips into whatever you wish to believe. The most widely told account, is that Septus turned the horse back when it began to rain, but could not make out the house in the grey of the rain and the mists, and the howling of the wind. Panicked, he rode the horse into a gathering of trees in an attempt to shelter until the worst had passed. As he paused underneath, he thought he could make out a figure on the other side of the coppice. He tied his horse to the tree, and approached the someone on foot. The next morning the storm had cleared and Lady Malfoy, Lucius' mother, sent Lucius and the gamekeepers to look for Septus. The man was never seen again, but the horse arrived at the house with a long piece of white veil woven into its mane."

"That could have been a hoax."

"True. But you must understand, Hermione, the superstition of the purebloods, and particularly the Malfoys. The 'white figure' is a creature that real or not, was hunted by Lucius when he was older, and I don't doubt, also sought by Draco. Had he lived to produce an heir, I have little doubt that the practice would have become an established family tradition."

"Why would they seek something that they believed would bring them death?"

"You above all people must surely recognise the insatiable desire for the Malfoys to somehow cheat and challenge death. Why did you think that Lucius became so enamoured by the Dark Lord to begin with?"

One of the candles sputtered and went out. Hermione stared at the puddle of wax left pooled in the candlestick. Ginny laughed to herself and stared at the embers of the fire. "What about the house itself? I get it, the moors were creepy and lonely, and the grounds were not much better. What else?"

Remus scrunched his nose and considered where to begin.

"I have been to the manor itself on only two occasions, and both of those in the strict escort of aurors and ministry officials, so what I am going to tell you shall have to be an amalgamation of my memories with those of Sirius, and of James.

'The Potters and the Malfoys were not on good terms when I was at Hogwarts, and had not been for many years. However, James had a vague recollection of going there with his great-grandfather when he was about four. The great-grandfather, whose name escapes me –no, his name was Harold – was about a hundred and twenty, and by James' reckoning, the last of the Potters to have been in any way amicably linked to the Malfoy family. Through the large and curious eyes of a tiny child, James' memories were always of a huge driveway flanked by intimidating gargoyles, oak front doors as colossal as those of Hogwarts, a chilly entrance hall, locked drawing rooms, and an army of house elves who tended to pop up on one when least expected to. I think he stayed there for maybe three months. Lucius would have been about seven or eight then, I suppose; certainly too old to take much note of James' existence. It was at Malfoy manor that James and Sirius first met, though I don't think they figured that out until they were a fair bit older. But yes, they first met when they were four or five, on a hearthrug in one of the Malfoys' guest lounges.

'I don't think James' early and short-lived recollection can be fully relied on –he tended to embroider things, it was in his nature, and while it could be a charming character trait, I won't pretend that we did not find it equally tiresome at times. Those are the basic impressions he had of the manor. Sirius could be more fully relied on for information, though I know he would have been able to relate more about the moors and what was inside the locked gardens, than anything too interesting about the house itself. He saw the manor as a much larger scaled version of Grimmauld Place. He always focused the bulk of his descriptions on the amount of locked doors and forbidden areas of the house –you know he was always more interested in what he couldn't have than what he was allowed to see. As he grew up and became estranged from his own family, the animosity between Lucius and himself grew to further heights and Malfoy manor came to signify the whole concept of Dark wizardry for him; in a way it was sad.

'This acrimonious relationship led to a probably very biased view of the manor. Sirius was betrothed from an early age to Lucius' sister and as a young teen was expected to sit with her and 'court' her for hours every day he was staying with them. This sort of thing meant listening her playing the piano or reading to him in French, or sitting still whilst she painted him, and any number of other things which were I expect supposed to show him how accomplished a young lady she was. She was five years his junior and he resented the union with every fibre he had."

"I always thought that Lucius Malfoy was an only child."

"The sister died of consumption when Sirius was sixteen. She had always been a sickly creature. The Malfoy line was weakening due to the lack of full purebloods that they would deign to marry. The pureblooded families were all becoming dangerously inbred."

"The poor girl!"

"I think it was a relief to Sirius. He tried to act as though he was in mourning for the six month period after her death, but after the first two it became clear to all those around that he was simply relieved. The Blacks saved face by marring Narcissa to Lucius as soon as she was seventeen. In fact, as far as I can remember, the wedding was the day after her birthday.

'We are digressing from the manor. More useful descriptions that Sirius gave us are some of those that I shall now relate. The main lounge, in which the family would convene in the evenings, is a very handsome room. I have been in it myself, though unfortunately in less than savoury circumstances. In the more golden days for the Malfoys, the family, if they did not have non-related guests at the house, would relax in there –as much as Malfoys ever do relax, I suppose. It was a handsome, semi-circular room, very large. I remember Sirius had one thing in the room that he secretly did admire a great deal, and that was the grand piano. It was an enormous thing, full size. Such a shame, when I saw it for myself it had long since been in disrepair, but still, truly a glorious thing to behold, with a piano stool long enough to sit three people quite comfortably. Lucius himself was a great pianist if I am to believe that little tale, and far surpassing his sickly yet apparently 'accomplished' sister. Sirius himself was a fantastic pianist when the mood took him. I remember the Potters having a beautiful baby grand in their drawing room, but to be honest it did pale in comparison to this sleek offering of ebony and ivory.

'You must think me very nostalgic, going on about a piano, but in those days there was not much entertainment for wizards, so musical accomplishment was something widely appreciated, particularly for purebloods who would not have integrated any muggle-orientated amusements into their evening entertainments. So, the main lounge. Yes, a semi-circular room with a beautiful piano. The arched windows reached the full height from floor to ceiling on the rounded side of the room, and afforded fantastic views out over the moors. However, after the disappearance of Septus, the curtains were always closed, even during the summer, because the Malfoys were convinced that the moors had turned against them. As you can imagine, this must have become a far bleaker environment for Lucius and then Draco to grow up in. Half of the flat wall was filled with huge bookcases; I remember that. Sirius detested them in his youth because they seemed to attract and dispel dust equally, so that if you had to take a seat near to them they would cause one to sneeze. They also tended to whisper in quiet intervals, which I know unnerved him. Then of course there were the usual amusements. Chess tables, an easel that I believe belonged to Lucius' sister and then to Narcissa when she came to live there. Large and probably quite uncomfortable couches which I remember being more or less Georgian in style…some low tables for setting down drinks and after-dinner nibbles, and a very ornate sideboard containing firewhiskies and other spirits alongside the correct glasses for each beverage."

"It sounds very civilised."

"You sound surprised. The Malfoys were always at the height of society and sophistication, it would be an insult to what began as a respectable household, to sully the name of the house's public front just because of some Darkness later on.

'But they did become dark… if we are to rest on ministry 'facts', this beautiful lounge would become sullied with darkness, and even Voldemort himself would at some point become an honoured guest in the presence of the ancient grand piano and the portraits of generations of Malfoys. I remember the portrait gallery vividly from one of my rare visits there. It was a long, beautifully lit landing with a full one side of full-length windows to get the best light on the paintings. Of course, by the time I got there, the curtains had been closed permanently for many years because of the superstitions of the moors, but it must have been lovely in its heyday. When I was there, many of the paintings had been removed, leaving behind the 'darker' relatives and ancestors. They had become cranky and opinionated after having been left in the dark for so long. It was such a shame. I think the ministry had them all destroyed.

'The ministry's purpose was to root out evidence they could use against Lucius, and if caught, Draco. There was a sort of 'secret chamber' under their drawing room which had Lucius stamped all over it, it was crawling with dark literature, experiments, dark curse research and potions. It is a crime that such a clearly intelligent man should have let himself fall so deeply into darkness and corruption. Further below were dungeons housing the remains of several 'missing' aurors. Many of the old families whose houses had been handed down throughout the ages still had dungeons and the like. Grimmauld Place does, in fact, but Sirius blocked them up as almost a first priority. I remember Dumbledore's distress over this, as they would have made fine areas for interrogation of Death Eaters. But Sirius was oddly resolute that they never be used again. I had long suspected that he had spent some time in them himself."

"Come back to Malfoy manor. What was Malfoy's bedroom like?"

Remus chuckled quietly and with some relief at Hermione's newfound thirst for information. She smiled in return, the wrinkles around her tired eyes crinkled prettily. The redhead next to them began to feel neglected and whined lowly, thudding her palm on the table. A cloud of dust rose between them all.

"The Malfoys didn't just have bedrooms, they had suites. When I was there, Lucius and Narcissa's room was the master suite. It was huge, I remember thinking that it was larger than the whole flat I had rented before moving into Grimmauld Place. Lucius' room was very grand, with a high four-poster and an enormous carved walnut writing desk, which I imagine was in the family for generations. Narcissa's room was covered in hatboxes. I do seem to recall her wearing quite a lot of different hats for various functions, actually –perhaps she used to collect them. Their rooms were both done up in matching royal blue and gold, connected by a dressing room, with their own private bathrooms on either side to frame the whole thing –it was very traditional. There was also a modest sitting room which was probably used by Narcissa for taking tea in and maybe even entertaining a couple of very close friends at a time. It had a harpsichord in it.

'Draco's room was hideously untidy, with an array of broomsticks in brackets along one wall, though I suspect the majority of them were just for looking at, and clothes and quidditch gear all over the place. We think he had a separate study, it did appear to be his in any case, because it was littered with potions equipment and text books, some of which I recall not being on the school list…I don't know, it was just a boy's room. It had a mix of traditional and modern, and under the bed was an old copy of Witch Weekly proclaiming him to be one of the wizarding community's must eligible bachelors. It was dated before he started to make such grave errors in his life, of course."

A second candle died. Remus carefully moved the remaining two so that they could get the full benefit of them. Hermione stared at them, haunted. "It's so sad. Just a normal boy like the rest of us, underneath. And just like Ron and Harry, he died. I was at his funeral and all I thought was how much I had hated him, and how good it was that the world was finally rid of him. I didn't know anything about his life… I had built us this horrendous image of Malfoy manor in my head because I needed to reassure myself of my own decisions. I am sorry."

Ginny started to cry, jerking the other woman out of her trance.

"I should get her back to St Mungo's, I promised them that we would return tomorrow at the latest and I don't think they liked me taking her out with me for so long."

"Do you need any help?" Remus stood up to help Hermione set the redhead on her feet.

"No, don't trouble yourself –we'll floo there. Thank you for your hospitality, Professor."

The wind sighed and whipped around the house, and the ivy outside rattled the ancient windowpanes. The sky fell from inky navy into midnight blackness, with no stars. Remus Lupin settled back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankle. The remaining candles sputtered and were silent.

The End.

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disclaimer: i do not own any part of Harry Potter

please review, i have no idea where this idea sprang from but here it is.

skinnyrita


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